


he’s dead?

by dragcnlxrd



Category: Merlin - Fandom, Merlin BBC
Genre: Attempt at humour, F/F, Gen, Humour mostly, I Tried, LOL IDK IM NEW TO THIS BYE, M/M, Merlin - Freeform, Post canon, bit of angst just a tad, heres something, im not funny but, mlm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragcnlxrd/pseuds/dragcnlxrd
Summary: Arthur emerges from the lake, and everyone else is back too. Morgana and Gwen reunite, and everybody’s happy. Except, Merlin is...Nowhere to be found.So naturally, they all assume he’s dead.Or,Everyone thinks Merlin’s dead but when he walks up to them wearing a Hawaiian shirt, and suspenders and demands why everyone’s crying, Arthur’s already quite fed up of living. While, Mordred is really confused. And, Kilgarrah really just wants some decent chicken.
Relationships: Gwaine & Percival (Merlin), Lancelot/Freya, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Morgana/Gwen
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	1. How It Began

**Author's Note:**

> HEY!! This is kinda my first fic😳  
> Yayyyyy  
> But anyways,, at first it’s a little boring but it gets funnier I think :)) This was inspired by a Tumblr post I saw, btw!
> 
> Disclaimer: as much as I wish I did, I do NOT own Merlin, or any of the characters.
> 
> Also,, after I copy and pasted the writing from Google docs, all the italics just- DISAPPEARED??? And it’s quite upsetting but 💀💀 anyways... UH the next chapter should be up soon!! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Gwen’s POV

Guinevere has had quite an abnormal day.  
To begin with, upon waking up, she gets a call from her boss telling her that she had a day-off. She doesn’t have any work due either. She has come up with all the question papers for all the tests and quizzes in the foreseeable future. She doesn’t have to catch up on her taxes or bills, she’d done that just a week earlier. She is all caught up on every single one of the Netflix series she watches. So, she is bored. Now, that is rare. And upon realising that, she calls Leon at around half-past ten in the morning. His response to her sort-of problem is nothing short of irritating. Because he just laughs and says she needs to get a life, but also suggests that she go and take a walk.

Gwen has always felt a special connection with Leon, out of all her friends. Not in the sense that he is her soulmate or something equally ridiculous. But a different bond. As if they’ve always known each other. Not that they haven’t. They have. Their Mothers were the best of friends since secondary school, so they’ve pretty much grown up together. In the same neighbourhood. As next-door neighbours. Their Fathers hadn’t much say in the matter. The two women had had this plan since they were sixteen years old.

So, taking Leon’s irritating—but well-meant— advice, she decides to grab her phone, purse and keys, make herself some tuna sandwiches, and walk to Hyde Park.

She spends an hour walking, and then decides to get a nice spot in the shade of a giant oak tree to lay her picnic blanket on and takes out her sandwiches. She eats quietly, while pondering over why she suddenly feels like walking in a certain direction. She has this weird sort of...urge to go somewhere. And it seems as though her mind already knows where. Not that she would ever just follow a weird impulse. That would be immature.

Now, Guinevere is finding herself walking out of Hyde Park, and taking a bus to place she’s never been to. She sits there for hours, wondering if this is even the right path. But then... Then it happens. The moment she gets off the bus. She doesn’t get any flashes or anything. No, nothing of the sort. It’s more like these thoughts, images, memories have always just been there. With her. Years spent as a servant, in a mythical kingdom. Then, decades spent wearing long gowns and a crown, wandering the corridors of an empty castle, bringing justice to crimes, making important decisions. She had been a queen. The Queen of Camelot. The Queen, who spent year after year in a long, lonely life, longing for a missing love. But to her surprise, Guinevere found that the missing love is not her King. And to make things even more surprising, it isn’t even the honourable, brave Knight. Not Lancelot. Not the one who always fought like there was no tomorrow. It was one who had always truly loved her. The one she would never be second for.  
It was Morgana.

Morgana, who always wanted her by her side.

Wait, if Gwen is back, is she back as well? Is everyone here?

Gwen starts running. She knows this path will take her where she belongs. She understands.

Leon’s POV

Leon is just in the middle of having his lunch, when his boss comes in and says that he can have the rest of the day off. Which is strange, since his boss is usually a complete and utter jerk. But Leon does want to go home, and sit with a beer whilst watch the football match he’d recorded the night before.

So, he walks to the nearest bus station, and waits for the bus that goes to the station near his flat at one in the afternoon.  
He gets on the bus once it’s here, climbs on and presses his Oyster card on the sign, and takes a window seat in the second row. He sits there for a while and waits to get to Berkeley Square.  
But... He falls asleep.

Leon wakes up, after the bus jerks to a stop. And winces after hitting his head on the glass. He checks his watch. It’s been  
two hours since he got on the bus. Wait, but it usually takes twenty minutes to get to his station. Wait. With wide eyes, Leon realises that he has missed his stop. And he has never been to this part of the city before.  
Is he even inside the city?  
Where on Earth is he?

Leon checks the bus schedule to see that the next bus going, from wherever-he-was to Berkeley Square, is going to arrive at eight in the evening.  
He decides to get off of the bus since it still has a lot of stations to go to, even further from his flat. He looks around and makes a very impulsive decision. One he wouldn’t usually make, but his instincts are telling him to. He is going to spend the rest of his day exploring this part of the....not city.

He feels like a warrior, following his instincts.  
Leon thinks this is strangest thought he has ever had, until he gets even weirder thoughts. Confusing, life-changing, unbelievable, strange thoughts. Not exactly thoughts. More like...memories? Memories in the back of his mind, as if he had actually fought a dragon. As if he had actually worked for the King Arthur. Hah. As if.

He starts walking down a street, and in a direction when he realises he has no control of his movements. He has no idea where his feet are taking him. This is strange.


	2. How They Realised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine becomes Sherlock Holmes, and Percival is John Watson :)
> 
> references from BBC’s ‘Sherlock’

**Gwaine’s POV**

  
  


Gwaine wasn’t sure if his day was  _ odd.  _ It was more along the lines of  _ ‘batshit crazy’,  _ and even Percival would agree that it was not because of Gwaine’s so-called  _ ‘theatrical flare’ _ . They were literally in the middle of nowhere. They had been out on a run, they somehow blacked out and woke up in front of some lake. 

In the distance, they could see an island shrouded in mist and surrounded by a lake of stillness. There was something about this place that Gwaine wasn’t sure he liked. It was strange. It felt as if there was some external force of sorrow and misery hanging in the air with the fog. The place felt like it had been a place of joy with a heavenly presence of happiness, and it didn’t feel right to even set his humane sight on the alluring, and marvellous way the water would just refuse to be manipulated by the wind to move. Yet it felt as if something terrible had taken place here; something so positively horrifying, it made Gwaine  _ shiver _ . 

“Where the Hell are we?” Percival’s voice sounded incredulous. 

“Glastonbury’s Tor,” Gwaine answered, “my grandma used to tell me stories of this place. And it’s exactly how she described it. It’s apparently the resting place of King Arthur. I know, I know. The legends don’t say that, and it’s not a well-known part of them.”

Percival was making a face at him, one Gwaine knew to be wary of. 

“No Percy, I haven’t gone crazy.”

“But the legends didn’t say anything about a place called ‘Glastonbury’s Tor.”

“Oh, they do. It just wasn’t called Glastonbury’s Tor back then. You may have heard of it as Avalon. Legend has it, this is where Merlin gave Arthur his burial and proceeded to wait for his return. My Grandma said that the Sidhe, basically faeries, have been watching over Arthur since his death.”

“Alright. That still doesn’t explain  _ why  _ we’re here. I’m feeling delusional,” Percival replied. 

“Well, how would I know?!” Gwaine said, feeling quite delusional himself.

_ Memories- _

_ “ _ You seemed to know everything up till now,” the bigger man grumbled and walked closer to the lake.

_ Feelings _

That’s when he noticed something on the ground, beside the lake. Was that a sword? Gwaine walked closer and picked it up, deciding to examine it. But he never got the chance. 

As soon as the hilt was in his hands, he  _ remembered _ . Out of nowhere, the memories and the thoughts were flooding in. They were so  _ strong _ , but he stood still. Though, that only lasted until the  _ feelings _ came rushing in, crowding his mind. The  _ adrenaline _ when he sparred, sword in hand. The  _ love _ , when he thought about Camelot, and the new home he was given— the new  _ family _ . The  _ joy _ , when they won battles. The  _ anger _ , when Morgana took away everything he’d held dear. 

But Gwaine knew, it wasn’t the anger that stayed with him. It was the  _ sorrow— _ the melancholic sense of failing his King. He staggered backwards, and was about to fall inside the lake when strong hands pulled him back, grabbing his shoulders.

“Gwaine, what… Are you alright?!” Percival’s voice broke him out of his trance. 

“That’s Sir Gwaine, to you,” came the breathy response, when finally a grin found itself on his face.

“What are you on about?! What was…” Percival never got to finish his sentence because, at that moment, something caught Gwaine’s eye— another sword! 

“Pick that up,” He said, with the grin still plastered on his face.

“Pick what up?”

  
  


**_Percival’s POV_ **

  
  


There was  _ another _ bloody sword. Percival had no idea  _ what _ was going on, to be honest. 

“Why would you want me to pick it up?” He asked, feeling quite ridiculous.

“Because I said so, now do it. Come on, mate!” Gwaine was being absurd.

“Fine!” He spat out, walking over to the damned thing and grabbing it by the hilt. 

And it happened. He  _ remembered _ . He remembered losing his family to Cenred’s army. He remembered meeting Lancelot, and all their late night talks about their travels. He remembered meeting Arthur, Gwaine, Elyan, Leon and Merlin. He remembered all their quests, and all the battles lost and won. He remembered falling in love. He remembered Morgana’s attacks. He remembered the last one— the one that took away his home. He had never left Camelot, but the spirit of Camelot had left with the death of her King. 

Queen Guinevere had been a brilliant sovereign, repealing the ban on magic, sending men to restore the land of Elmet, hiring sorcerers to make sure every village had its harvest. But, she too was hurting inside, from more pain than most could fathom.

But now, Percival was back, and so was Gwaine. Gwaine. Oh, dear God—  _ Gwaine _ .

“You’re back! Gwaine, I…” He couldn’t form a coherent sentence, so decided instead to just wrap him in a gentle embrace. “I can’t believe it! You’re back. Never do that  _ ever _ again,” 

He could practically hear the smile in Gwaine’s voice as he said, “I promise not to die again?” 

“But, I still don’t understand what’s going on. And, how are we back?” Percival asked, dazed and pulling back from the embrace. 

“Come on, you know the legends!” Gwaine exclaimed. 

“What?”

“They all talk about how _our_ Arthur is the  _ Once _ and  _ Future _ King.” He waited for Percival to catch on.

“So?”

“So, my dear Watson, Arthur is coming back. That’s why we’re here.”

  
  



End file.
